


Ring me Up, Late At Night

by justtoogaytofunction



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, crisscolfer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtoogaytofunction/pseuds/justtoogaytofunction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night after filming Kurt and Blaine’s first kiss, Darren can’t sleep. As it turns out, neither can Chris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring me Up, Late At Night

**Darren: you awake?**

**Chris: yeah. Insomnia -_-**

**Darren: I can’t sleep either. Don’t count on me being awake for tomorrow’s filming**

**Chris: We have to lie on a bed, it’s not that hard**

**Darren: I bet it was for Blaine**

**Chris: what?**

**Chris: oh**

**Chris: you disgust me**

**Darren: I’m sorry. I’m ashamed of myself**

**Chris: you should be. Can I ring you? Given up on falling asleep now**

Darren rings Chris first, a little too eager to hear his voice. He’s still got a crush on Chris. It’s only ever led to a few hormone filled kisses in their trailers, both of them laughing it off as ‘practice’ and ‘bros helping bros.’ That and there little fling during the tour, bet Chris had suggested that to be just drunken kisses, meaning nothing. Chris had shown no signs for wanting it to be something more, so Darren hadn’t perused. He had heard the glee scandal after all- that the cast had been forbidden to have sex in their trailers. Perhaps they often did this, hooked up with one another in between scenes. And Darren, not knowing what had happened during that first season, decided to just go along with Chris’s lead.

‘Hey,’ Darren says into his phone, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach as he feels that familiar flutter of nervousness he’s learnt to associate with talking to Chris. ‘How’s the insomnia?’

‘A nightmare,’ Chris complains on the other end. Chris is in bed, lazily browsing cat pictures on the internet whilst waiting for sleep to overtake him. ‘Every time I close my eyes I just start thinking of all the stuff I have to do and everything at work.’

‘Work?’

‘You know, the whole Kurt and Blaine having sex thing. The fans are going to go _crazy_.’ Chris stiffens a yawn, tries to ignore the picture in his mind. He naturally thinks of Kurt and Blaine having sex. Only of course, it’s him and Darren. Naked and sweaty, rutting in the sheets. Chris blushes, hastily licking a link to ‘grumpy cat pictures’ in an effort to divert his thoughts.

‘Kurt and Blaine probably have the most vanilla sex ever,’ Darren ponders, testing the waters with his comment. He waits for Chris’s reply tentatively, nervously anticipating the response.

‘You think so?’ Chris laughs. ‘Kurt’s a kinky fucker I swear. He’d be making Blaine his bitch.’

Darren almost drops the phone at that, trying to think of a quick, witty reply. Making an effort to steer the conversation in a favourable direction, he retorts with ‘Really? You think Blaine’s a bottom?’

‘Well duh.’ Chris grins, rolling his eyes. ‘Look at his ass.’

Darren can’t see the way Chris bites his lip after that comment, can’t see the way his hand clenches the sheets in an effort to ignore his growing erection. Chris is making excuses up for himself, that it’s been a frustrating day at work and he hasn’t masturbated that evening. But the attempt at denial collapses as his mind lingers back to Darren’s backside, to the gorgeous plumpness of the flesh he had once grasped in his trailer, Darren rubbing against him as they kissed.

‘You mean _my_ ass.’

‘Well, the last time I touched it you seemed like a bottom.’ Chris pauses. He doesn’t want to push it too far. They’re good friends though, and Chris can always change the conversation if he senses Darren wants him too. ‘Are you a bottom?’

‘Jeez, Chris,’ Darren stutters, blushing furiously. He’s not out – a stern warning from his new PR firm had warned him to maintain a straight status. But it’s hardly a secret, especially to Chris, that he likes boys.

‘I dunno,’ Darren shrugs. ‘Don’t really mind.’

‘You don’t mind?’

‘Nope,’ Darren says. It feels good to do this, to finally talk about his sexuality. Even better when it’s  Chris, his colleague who he _totally_ doesn’t have an ever increasing crush on. ‘Do you have a erm- a preference?’

‘Top,’ Chis says matter of factly. ‘Can’t you tell?’

‘I never thought about it,’ Darren lies. His cock throbs hard, trapped inside his boxer briefs as he strokes a palm over it, half reluctantly, half desperate to feel some relief. He moans too loudly, the sound audible in Chris ear.

‘Liar,’ Chris says sharply. ‘Do you have someone over?’ He knows the answer, is teasing now, knows he has Darren under his thumb. That tell-tale moan confirmed it for him and he pictures Darren lying there, touching himself to the sound of Chris’s voice.

‘What? No,’ Darre repies, struggling to keep his voice steady. He lets out a gasp as he presses down over the head of his cock, a pulse of pleasure shifting in his stomach as his balls tighten. ‘Why?’

‘Well you’re moaning,’ Chris points out, cat pictures long forgotten. ‘You can’t seriously be masturbating, can you?’

The reply of silence confirms it, and with a sigh of relief Chris slips his own hand down his pyjama bottoms, beginning to lazily jerk himself off, palm moving up and down his member with increasing eagerness.

‘It’s okay, I’m doing it too,’ Chris smiles, folding his laptop down and putting it on the other side of the bed. He lies down, eyes shutting as he concentrates on thinking of Darren, of kissing him, of touching him. Of fucking him hard and desperate, here, on Chris’s own bed. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking of.’

In all honesty, Darren can’t remember how they got here. But they are here, jerking themselves off on the phone to each other, and it is glorious.

‘I’m thinking of you,’ comes Darren’s weak reply. He’s unsure of what to say. He’s never had phone sex before, not with a guy. Chris seems to know everything when it comes to gay sex, and Darren is reduced to the state of a fumbling virgin, unsure of what to say and how to say it.

‘Thinking of me doing what?’ Chris whispers, voice catching as he talks. He knows he’ll have to coax Darren into this. But he doesn’t mind.

‘Well, you’re in costume. We’re on set,’ Darren mumbles back.

‘Go on.’

‘And the crew, they leave us alone. They tell us to practice; they’ll be back in ten minutes. And you, dressed as Kurt, start kissing me, taking off my clothes.’

‘One by one,’ Chris replies. ‘I take them off one by one, leaving your boxers on last. You’re hard, like you always are when we’re doing the kissing screens.’

Darren reddens at that. He thought Chris hadn’t noticed.

‘And I touch you,’ Chris continues. ‘Gently, stroking you though the material. And then you let me wander inside, finally letting me feel your hard, aching cock.’

Darren swears at that, hips thrusting up in his palm as Chris talks. He needs this so bad, this fantasy Chris is playing out to him. His imagination clings into Chris’s every word, desperate to hear what happens next.

‘We don’t have sex,’ Chris teases. ‘You don’t last long enough, so desperate in my palm.’

‘So you jerk me off,’ Darren finishes. The image is so vivid, so real, he forgets it is his own hand holding his dick, and is almost convinced it’s Chris’s. ‘Fast, I’m hungry for it. You’re hard to, you’re cock outlined in your pants.’

‘I don’t let you touch me.’ Chris says. ‘It’s about you. My desperate, squirming co-star who can’t control himself. Every time I touch him he moans out loud, bucking under my grip. ‘

‘I’m close.’

So is Chris.

‘I move my hand faster, your skin hot and sweaty under my touch, finally you cum, dripping over my pam and-‘

‘ _Oh._ ’

He’s interrupted by the shout of Darren as he reaches his own orgasm, the pulse of pleasure bringing him back to reality, eyes opening to reveal his still-empty bedroom, the phone the only reminder of Chris.

‘Tell me how it feels,’ Chris demands. He’s close to, balls aching for release, the throbs of pleasure threatening to overwhelm him.

‘It feels so fucking good. Fuck, fuck _fuck_.’

Darren’s lack of articulation is no obstacle, pushing Chris over the limit as he too reaches his orgasm, messing over his hand as his stomach heaves with heavy breathing, teeth biting into his bottom lip.

‘Well then,’ Chris finally answers. ‘I need cleaning up.’

Darren’s lost for words, still in disbelief to what has happened.

‘I gotta go,’ Chris tells him. ‘But- after work tomorrow, do you want to go out for dinner? On second thoughts, it’s probably easier if you just come to mine, I’ll cook you something.’ He falters slightly, wondering if he has made up Darren’s crush for him all along.

‘That sounds lovely,’ Darren says, laughing in relief. ‘Urm, thanks? Wait no, it’s weird to thank someone for phone sex, isn’t it. Oh god, I’ve fucked this up.’

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my pleasure,’ Chris laughs back. ‘And you know what they say- practice makes perfect.’

The next evening they go for round two. This time without phones, but joined together on Chris’s bed, a tangled mess of desire, desperation and love.

 


End file.
